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Penny Nichols Finds a Clue Part 3

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"Don't turn me over to the police," the boy begged. "I've done nothing wrong."

"Then why were you hiding in my garage?"

"It's true the police were chasing me," he admitted reluctantly, "but they mistook me for someone else."

"If you weren't guilty why did you run?" Penny demanded suspiciously.

"Why didn't you wait and explain?"

"You can't explain to a cop," the boy told her with a scornful curl of his lip. "You see, I have a juvenile court record--it doesn't amount to much but the police won't give me a chance. I've been trying to go straight, but every move I make they watch me."

"Tell me your name."

The boy hesitated, then said quietly:

"Jerry Barrows."

"I mean your real name," Penny smiled.

A telltale flush crept over the youth's face, but he threw back his head a trifle defiantly.

"It is my real name. I'm no thief either. I admit I've been in a little trouble before this, but today it wasn't my fault. Another fellow and myself were standing in a crowd when an old lady let out a holler that someone had picked her pocketbook. The police came running. They spotted me right off. I hadn't been near the old lady, but she was so excited she was ready to identify anyone. When the cops tried to arrest me on suspicion I took to my heels."

"What sort of juvenile court record do you have?" Penny asked.

"Nothing of consequence. Once I was in a gang that took some apples from a pushcart. It was done in fun, but the judge put me on probation on account of it."

Penny occasionally had visited juvenile court sessions and in many respects the stories she had heard there corresponded to Jerry Barrows'

account of his difficulties. Yet in some ways his tale did not ring true. Obviously, he was trying to convey the impression that he had never had a chance and yet he wore expensive clothing. She suspected too that he had been educated in a school fully as good as the one she attended.

"I am sorry, but I must turn you over to the police," she told him. "I don't believe your story. It doesn't hang together."

A strange change came over the boy's face. The last trace of arrogance left him as he turned pleading eyes upon the two girls.

"I lied about my name," he admitted, "but I did it because I want to protect my mother. If she learns that I am in trouble again it will kill her. Please, won't you let me go free?"

Even as the boy spoke, his eyes were roving to the door. It would not be difficult for him to overpower the two girls and escape if he really chose.

"If I should let you go will you promise not to get into any more trouble?" Penny asked suddenly.

The boy nodded.

"I'll find a job and keep straight."

"Would you really work if you had a position?" Penny questioned.

"Would I? Just try me!"

"Then I'm going to turn you loose," she decided. "Come to my father's office tomorrow at nine o'clock. I'll ask him to help you find a position."

"Where is his office?" the boy inquired.

"In room 305 of the Leader building. You'll see his name on the door.

Christopher Nichols."

"Nichols, the detective?" the boy questioned uneasily.

"Yes, but you needn't be afraid he'll turn you over to the police.

Wait now, and I'll see if the coast is clear."

Opening the garage door a tiny crack, Penny peered out. As she had expected there were no officers lingering about the neighborhood.

"It's safe to leave," she informed.

He started away, then paused and offered his hand to Penny.

"Thanks for giving me a break," he told her gratefully. "I really meant what I said about going straight."

With that he darted through the open door and was lost in the night.

CHAPTER III

An Impulsive Act

"I don't know why I let him escape," Penny said self-accusingly as she closed the garage doors. "I simply did it on the impulse of the moment."

"One couldn't help liking the boy," Susan declared optimistically. "Do you suppose he'll keep his promise and come to see your father?"

"If he doesn't I'll know I made a silly mistake. I hope they can't put me in jail for permitting criminals to escape!"

"You might look very well in stripes," Susan teased. "They would never become me because I'm too plump."

Penny was in no mood to respond to the attempted banter.

"I wonder what Dad will say when he learns about it," she mused uncomfortably.

She did not have long to speculate for as the girls turned toward the house Mr. Nichols came down the walk.

"I can't get in at the front door," he complained good naturedly. "Has Mrs. Gallup locked up the place for the summer?"

Penny explained what had happened but as she repeated Jerry Barrows'

story it sounded flat and a trifle ridiculous. She was not surprised that her father listened incredulously.

"Why were the police searching for the boy?" he questioned.

"I didn't learn," Penny confessed. "I have only the boy's word."

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